


I'll Love You Still in Hell

by talktowater



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drowning, First Time, Gay Pirates - Freeform, M/M, Past Lives, Post Season 2, Romance, Soulmates, True Love, blink and you'll miss it supernatural crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talktowater/pseuds/talktowater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has always had these dreams where he was drowning, they were just dreams, really fucking horrible dreams but just dreams nevertheless. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Love You Still in Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gay Pirates](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/13529) by Cosmo Jarvis. 



Stiles couldn’t remember when the dreams had started. He usually didn’t call them nightmares, because sometimes they were nice and he woke with an overwhelming feeling of comfort but more often than not they were horrible. He remembers waking as a child, screaming, struggling to breathe and being rocked back to sleep in his mother’s arms.

He didn’t remember most of what happened in the dreams either, so he couldn’t say for sure if they were reoccurring or if he was just prone to occasional intense dreams about drowning. In the happy dreams he was laughing and cuddling someone, he always woke feeling loved, even if he wasn’t sure by whom or what the dream had been about but he knew it was the same dream because they were always on a ship. He remembered a little more about the unpleasant dreams though, he never knew how he got there but he was always sinking to the bottom of the sea. His eyes were bleary, as his mouth and lungs filled with the salty taste of the seawater. 

The dreams started when he was young, but how young he didn’t know, but he does remember screaming his head and refusing to take swimming lessons when he was five. The way his dad tells the story now is that Stiles kept screaming, “I don’t want to drown again.” Stiles doesn’t remember saying that but he’ll never forget the tears streaming down his mom’s face as he overheard her telling his dad she was terrified that her son woke almost every night thinking he was drowning.

He’d been only five but he didn’t want his mom to cry. So he got in the pool, ignored the taunts of Jackson who’d seen him crying and called him a cry-baby. Over the next few years he became the best swimmer in the class. Allison had asked him after the kanima at school how he’d kept Derek afloat in the pool for so long, and he’d thought of his mom and her insistence that he stop being afraid of the water by becoming a swimmer. 

He was a better swimmer than Jackson would ever be, but he’d always refused to join the swim team. He’d become a good swimmer for his mom’s sake, but he hated it and he’d never really lost his fear. His mom thought swimming had helped because by the time he was seven he’d stopped waking up in the night, crying because he was drowning. Stiles couldn’t tell her that the only thing that had changed was that he didn’t cry anymore when he woke with the taste of salt water in his mouth, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

Stiles had just turned seventeen and the only thing that had changed was over the years he began to remember a little more of his dreams. Sometimes he was scrubbing the floor on a ship, or in a dark room before a group of dirty men pull him to his feet and tie his hands behind his back. As he began to remember fragments of the dreams he finally admitted to himself that these were reoccurring, because even though the lead up was always different they always ended with him drowning.

The image stuck in his mind the most lately was of him lying half naked in a hammock with someone wrapped around him, a man’s voice whispers, “You’re the man I love.”

 Two days before the kanima trapped him and Derek in the pool he’d had the realization that as he was sinking to the ocean floor, there was someone else sinking alongside him. He couldn’t see him, but he knew somehow it was the same man who loved him. He’d woken feeling sad and more uncomfortable in his skin than usual.

 

***

 

As expected Derek showed Stiles no gratitude after Stiles saved his life, but he had started acting shiftier around Stiles. This probably would have been weird if Derek wasn’t already such a natural creeper prone to bizarre behavior and mood swings.

Stiles found Derek sneaking looks at him whenever they had the misfortune of being in the same place at the same time. Stiles would love to claim that seeing Derek was a misfortune because he was such a jackass, but the lame truth was it was only misfortunate because he only ever saw Derek during life-and-death situations. If Stiles was going to be brutally honest he actually found Derek a little bit fascinating. Okay, more than fascinating. 

If someone were to hypnotize Stiles to the point of convincing him to act like a chicken they may even get him to admit to having frequent bizarrely mundane fantasies about Derek that involved running into him at the grocery store or at the library. Sure, Stiles had his jerk off material that he visited a few times a day, usually involving Derek getting hit with sex pollen and bending Stiles’ over the hood of his Camaro. In fact, get few drinks into Stiles and he’ll proudly admit to jerking off thinking about Derek, Stiles was positive he wasn’t the only one he knew who did. But he knew the daydreams about running into Derek in the produce aisle and starting up a conversation about the origins of carrots were weird, and sad. 

In his most revisited day dream Derek is filling a bag with carrots and Stiles says, “Did you know that modern orange carrots are mutations of their ancestors, the purple carrot?” Derek just stares at him like he doesn’t know why Stiles is talking to him, then he smiles, and they carry on through the store, making friendly conversation as they fill their carts. They are parked next to each other and just as Stiles is about to climb in the jeep Derek calls out shyly, “Maybe we can get coffee sometime?”

That is Stiles’ entire fantasy, and he saves it for when he’s trying to get to sleep at night, bored in class, or when Scott’s on hour three of ermahgerd-Allison-is-so-amaze. It doesn’t end with Derek blowing him outside the market, or an impromptu skinny dip at the lake. Sometimes he’ll get to the end of it and just go back to the beginning again and work on his dialogue, or ways to make imaginary Derek laugh in the canned foods aisle when Stiles questions the popularity of Spam in Hawaii. 

 

***

 

When Derek, no less than three days after summer vacation started, stopped Stiles in the produce aisle Stiles could have sworn he almost had a heart attack. Instead of trying to reenact his carefully constructed daydream encounter he yelped, “Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?”

Derek frowned, and then rolled his eyes, “For the three thousandth time, I’m not a vampire Stiles, I do actually need to eat food.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, before nodding down to point out Derek’s distinct lack of cart or basket, “You planning on just carrying your food out between your teeth?”

Derek looked down at Stiles’ shopping cart, before his eyes darted to the stack of baskets by the entrance. He seemed sheepish, which was odd. Even odder was Derek’s quick dash to grab a basket before walking back to where Stiles was picking out a bunch of bananas. 

Derek was hovering around Stiles, making Stiles feel incredibly uneasy. “Okay. Just spill. This has something to do with the Alpha’s right?”

Derek frowned, “They haven’t made a move yet.”

“Okay…” Stiles said slowly before it dawned on him, “Oh god. Jackson’s back from South America or wherever the hell it was he went to find himself…”

Derek took a small step closer to Stiles, but there was still at least a foot between them, he shook his head, “Jackson’s not back. I was just doing my grocery shopping.”

Stiles huffed, pushing his cart away from where Derek was standing, “You’re not allowed to follow me around until you feel like telling me the truth about what evil we are dealing with this week.”

But Derek didn’t follow him, Stiles didn’t get to make a spam joke or secretly find out what washing powder Derek used. But it was okay, because imaginary Derek was nothing like the real thing. The real thing only wanted Stiles around when he needed help. Imaginary Derek thought Stiles was cute and sorta maybe wanted to date him. Stiles wasn’t crazy enough to actually blur the lines between fantasy and reality— even if Derek had literally just walked into his fantasy minutes earlier. 

Stiles had a hard time reminding himself of this fact when as he walked out to the jeep, paper bag in each arm, he saw Derek’s Camaro parked next to his. Derek was leaning against his car like he was waiting for something, someone… Stiles. “You gonna tell me what big bad we’re facing?”

Derek looked pained, his eyes met Stiles’ a few feet away and he asked softly, “Sebastian?”

Stiles frowned, “Huh? That’s our new bad guy? Someone named Sebastian? That’s like the least threatening name ever.”

“No,” Derek sounded frustrated. “Does that name mean anything to you?”

Stiles brow furrowed in thought and for a moment Derek almost looked hopeful, but Stiles shook his head, “Unless we’re playing Little Mermaid trivia games, and then yes it definitely means something.”

Derek’s mouth tightened and he nodded his head once before climbing in his car and driving away without a word of goodbye. 

 

***

 

_“They’re here,” the man whispers into his lips, kissing him one last time before he is pulled off of Stiles._

_“You’re abominations. You’ll sink for this,” another man says as he grabs Stiles, dragging him across the floor and through a door._

_They’re suddenly on the deck of a ship, and he’s standing out facing the water, his hands being tied behind his back. He can’t see the man he knows he loves, but he can feel him standing nearby._

_“I want you to watch your boy take his last breath,” another strange voice says with a loud laugh, and he is suddenly being pushed towards a plank hanging off the edge of the ship._

_“I love you,” he screams as he is shoved off the plank._

_As he falls he hears his love screaming, “I’ll find you Sebastian.”_

_He struggles as his body hits the water and plummets toward the ocean floor. He tries to untie his hands but it’s useless. His body falls further, and as he gives up he sees another dark figure sinking alongside him, he isn't scared anymore._

Stiles woke from his nightmare, heart racing and drenched in sweat, as was often the case. He lay still for the longest time, he’d never remembered so much from the dreams, and he was suddenly grateful for all the years of hazy details. 

Stiles had been having the drowning dreams for so long that he almost never thought about them, didn’t try to analyze them or make an effort to remember more. He’d once taken a book out from the library on dreams to read up on reoccurring dreams but the information had been useless, suggesting they were a result of unresolved trauma in ones past. But unless Stiles’ parents had accidentally let him almost drown in the bath as a baby, (and he was pretty sure this wasn’t the case because he’d asked) then there was no ‘unresolved trauma or anxiety from the past.’

Stiles couldn’t get back to sleep that night, he just lay in bed and watched the bright red numbers on his alarm clock change slowly from 3:37 until 6:00 when his alarm went off. After almost three hours of deliberation Stiles had decided that the Sebastian thing wasn’t a supernatural coincidence but rather Derek’s weird question had lodged in his brain and hijacked his dream. That happened all the time, just never with the nightmares before; it was weird, but not unimaginable.

 

***

 

Four hours later Stiles was sitting behind the front desk at the sheriff’s station surrounded by piles of folders, feeling way too antsy for someone that hadn’t slept. That happened sometimes though; sleep deprivation often made Stiles feel like he was slightly high.

Stiles looked up when he heard a laugh above him, and saw Scott standing on the other side of the desk, looking way too amused, “So how many hours until you get a break?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m never allowed to leave this side of the desk ever again,” he said before raising his voice deliberately so his dad could hear him from his office, “because apparently even though I’m seventeen I can’t be trusted home alone to play xbox over summer like every single other kid in the history of ever.”

Stiles’ dad called out from his office, “Most kids can be trusted not to almost get their selves killed when left alone.”

Stiles rolled his eyes then stood, leaning in towards Scott over the counter, “Don’t worry he’s powerless against my powers of annoyance, I’m slowly wearing him down. He’s already sent me out on two coffee runs just to get me to shut up. Give me till the end of the day and my dad will be begging for me to stay away for the rest of the summer.”

Scott grinned at him, “Good, I’m spending way too much time with Lydia and Isaac. It’s weird. I guess it could be worse, at least Derek has been keeping to himself after the whole Alpha thing.”

“I thought the Alpha thing wasn’t a thing?” Stiles whispered.

“Not for us, I told you that that male model Alpha called me a peasant? They only want Derek. For once in his life he’s decided not to be an ass by actually staying away from us.”

“But Derek needs you guys if the Alpha’s are coming after him. He won’t be strong enough.”

Scott’s eyebrows furrowed, “Did I miss something? This is where you say ‘I’m so glad my best friend is out of harms way’ not ‘oh no big bad Alpha’”

Stiles shrugged self-consciously, “No. I’m glad you guys are safe it’s just… I saw Derek yesterday and he was being super sketchy. I swear he called me Sebastian. Do you think that’s the name of one of the Alphas?”

Scott shrugged, “We didn’t exactly do a meet and greet.” 

“I’ll be out of here by four, I’ll swing past later.”

Scott grinned, before walking toward the door but as he opened it bailed into one of the Deputies wrangling a man through the door. Stiles didn’t recognize the man, he was probably in his thirties but he looked worn out. His long trench coat dirty, and eyes tired with greying stubble covering his face. The deputy ignored the man he was marching inside and looked at Stiles, unimpressed with Scott visiting him at the station. Stiles just shrugged and pretended he was filing instead of watching the clearly drunk man get dragged inside the station. 

The man was resisting the deputy at every step, laughing, struggling and shouting things that sounded like Russian one minute then Latin the next. Stiles looked up at the man as they walked past the desk, jumping when the man suddenly went limp and silent. His eyes met Stiles’ and he said, “You’re not new.”

Stiles frowned, “Yes I am.”

The deputy shoved the man away but not before he said, “I’m never wrong. I can see the glow,” they were out of sight but Stiles heard the man shout from the cells, “God gave you another chance, don’t waste it.”

Apparently all Stiles’ needed to get out of working for his dad wasn’t to annoy him but to be the victim of drunken ramblings of a crazy man because two minutes later his dad was handing him a twenty, telling him he wouldn’t be needed to work at the station for the rest of summer and making him promise he won’t get into any trouble. Stiles had told him he would try his best.

 

***

 

After carb-loading on In-N-Out Stiles spent the next two hours playing Sonic the Hedgehog before getting bored with his newfound freedom. By two he was lying on his bed, the high of sleep deprivation wearing off, the wave of somnolence taking over and forcing his eyes shut.

 

_“Your feet are bleeding,” he cries to the man in his arms, “what did they do to you?”_

_“I’ll heal Sebastian,” the man says softly, his hand cupping his chin, “it’s only glass. There's no wound I wouldn't endure to protect you.”_

_“They’re going to kill you.”_

_“Then I’ll die loving you.”_

 

Stiles woke to the sound of his window being shut, he sat up bleary eyed and confused, as he focused on Derek standing over his bed looking potentially menacing as always. 

“Sorry,” Derek said awkwardly.

“Huh?” Stiles had fully woken now, “Oh my god. Are you dying? Did you just apologize for waking me?”

“I’m not dying,” he said, still staring at Stiles, and after about thirty seconds Stiles realized there was no follow up to his statement.

“Right. Okay nice chat,” Stiles swung his legs off his bed and stretched before sitting down in front of his computer, “Spill Sourwolf, this will go so much quicker if you just tell me what it is you want me to research. I know the Alpha pack still want your hot ass so…”

“I’m not worried about the Alpha’s right now.”

“Sebastian isn’t an Alpha?”

Derek frowned, “No.”

“Holy shit. Is this a witch thing? That’s why I keep hearing the name in my dream. Sebastian is a witch isn’t he?”

Derek’s face froze, “You’ve been dreaming about Sebastian?”

Stiles felt suddenly very uncomfortable, he didn’t talk about the dreams with anyone, he’d learnt a long time ago it was better just to keep them to himself and yet here he was spilling one of his biggest secrets with Derek fucking Hale. “No. You put the name in my head and through power of suggestion I have had dreams in which someone calls me Sebastian.”

“What do you know about past lives?” Derek leaned over his shoulder, watching Stiles type into Google: past lives. The results were just pages of nonsense about past life regression therapy and real life stories of people finding their soul mates after losing them in a past life.

After a few minutes scrolling and clicking useless links that Derek just groaned at Stiles threw his arms in the air, “This is stupid. I need more information if you actually want my help.”

Stiles heard the front door bang downstairs and his dad shout gleefully, “Taco tuesday!”

Derek was halfway out the window when Stiles called out, “Seriously dude? You’re just gonna jump out the window without telling me what’s going on?”

“Tonight,” he said, “I’ll find you.” 

“But I’m going to Sco— ” Stiles tried to say but Derek was already out of sight. Stiles ignored the creepy deja-vu he was feeling after hearing the words the man had said in his dream coming from Derek. 

 

***

 

Stiles had spent the rest of the night looking sideways out of Scott’s window, expecting Derek to be standing in the shadows, but he didn’t show up. Stiles wasn’t disappointed that Derek had decided not to be a creeper for once, except that he was. It was stupid that Stiles found it so exciting that Derek kept choosing him. Lydia was unquestionably smarter than him and after Jackson had left she had become increasingly involved with the Werebunch Kids, but Derek wasn’t breaking into Lydia’s room or following her around the market for help. Or at least he hoped he wasn’t. No, he was sure he wasn’t, he wouldn’t because for whatever reason, Derek always came to him.

Stiles’ pretended to be annoyed when the passenger door of his jeep opened as he started his engine. Derek climbed in the car like it was a normal thing to do.

Of all the things Stiles could have said he blurted out, “Did you ask Lydia about past lives too?”

“Of course I did,” Derek said like a bitchy girl with a roll of his eye then pointed ahead of him, “take the 68.”

Stiles put his foot on the brake before turning to Derek, “I’m not leaving town with you at ten o’clock at night.”

“But, this is important,” Derek said, sounding uncharacteristically small.

“Try asking next time then, instead of demanding.”

Derek sighed, “Stiles, will you please take the 68 to Monterey?”

Stiles’ eyes bugged out of his head, “Monterey? What the hell is in Monterey? That’s like, almost an hour away dude.”

“The Black Ranger.”

Stiles rubbed his forehead frustrated by Derek’s inability to think like a normal person, “You want me to drive, in the middle of the night, to Monterey Bay, to look at the wreck of a pirate ship? Dude. Are you high on red wolfsbane right now?”

“No. Red wolfsbane?”

“You know like red kryptonite makes Superman go cray cray?” Stiles offered but Derek just stared back at him like he was waiting for him to stop talking.

“Just drive Stiles.”

“I’m pretty sure my dad who doesn’t even trust me alone at home during the day isn’t going to— ”

“I went by your place earlier and heard your dad saying he was heading back out for the night to search for an escaped detainee. He won’t know your gone. Drive.”

Stiles huffed. He kinda wanted to see how this played out but he wasn’t entirely sure being grounded for the next three months was worth it, no matter how good Derek looked in those pants at that moment. But then Derek said softy, “Please Stiles,” so with a loud sigh he took his foot off the brake and headed toward the freeway exit.

 

***

 

Derek had stayed silent most of the drive. He’d tried to turn off Stiles’ music about ten minutes in but Stiles smacked Derek’s hand away, “Nope, my car, my rules.”

Surprisingly Derek only sighed and sank back into his seat without another word until they got closer to Monterey bay. “Pull in up here,” Derek said, pointing at a cheap looking motel with a flashing neon sign that said, ‘The Mermaids Tale Inn’.

“Oh my god. Did you make me drive all the way out here so you can bone me? Cos, you could have just asked you know,” Stiles grinned.

Derek rolled his eyes before jumping out of the car as Stiles pulled up in front of the motel lobby. He wasn’t sure if he should follow but decided against it in the end. A few minutes later Derek walked out holding a key in his hand, before slipping it into his jacket pocket and climbing back into the car. “Do you know how to get to the Black Ranger?”

Stiles shook his head, “We came down here to visit the aquarium and the Black Ranger when I was a kid but apparently I had a conniption when my Mom tried to take me to the Blank Ranger Museum so we never actually made it inside.”

“Just follow this road, there should be signs.”

“Have you got a plan on how we’re going to get in there? You know it’s not in the sea right? That it’s, like, a wrecked ship in a museum.”

“Yes Stiles,” he said slowly, “I like, know.”

Stiles poked his tongue out at Derek, who just smirked in response. 

 

***

 

The parking lot for The Black Ranger Museum was empty, save for one car and a man leaning against it. Stiles looked at Derek questioningly but he just nodded as encouragement for Stiles to go ahead and park next to the man.

“You’re late,” the man said to Derek, before walking ahead of them and punching in some numbers into the key pad by the doors. Derek grabbed a confused Stiles by the arm and pulled him inside the museum. The man went over to the alarm and punched more numbers in before turning to Derek, “You have an hour before the security guard does her next sweep.”

Derek just nodded, handing over an envelope that probably contained cash because the man inspected it before humming to himself and walking out the museum door.

“Come on,” Derek said, pulling Stiles over to the platform that surrounded the pirate ship built up in the middle of the large museum.

“I’m not going inside. This is stupid. Why are we here?” Stiles whined. He really didn’t like boats, and he hated ships. Even if those ships were on dry land, so the closer he got to the Black Ranger the larger the knot in his stomach grew.

“I just… please Stiles?” Derek pleaded softly.

Stiles followed Derek up the stairs to the entrance of the ship, fighting the urge to grab on to Derek’s hand because the creepy level of this ship was off the chart. They must have triggered some automatic audio playback because as they walked up the plank to board the ship a dramatic sounding voice came over a speaker, “The Black Ranger, recovered in 1989 by a team of forensic divers is believed to have sunk during a mighty storm in 1717 just off the Monterey Bay coast taking up to a hundred tortured pirate souls down with it.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles shouted, “I’m too delicate for midnight pirate ship adventures. That lady almost gave me a heart attack man.”

Derek put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder and guided him on to the ship toward the back where it was even darker and creepier. The sound of the floorboards creaking under their feet had an uncanny familiarity Stiles was uncomfortable with. Everything was familiar, and not in the repeat-viewings-of-Pirates-of-the-Caribbean kind of way. As they walked along the deck he realized he knew exactly where they were going, he didn’t know why but he knew before Derek had even dropped to his knees to open the hatch door that he would. When Derek started climbing down the ladder he finally understood the phrase ‘someone walking over my grave.’

Stiles swore under his breath before following Derek down the ladder into the dank room below. Derek flicked on the flashlight that Stiles didn’t realize he was carrying and cast it around the room

“This must be the Galley,” Stiles whispered to Derek, “that’s where-“

“I know what the Galley is,” Derek rolled his eyes.

“Just trying to lighten the Twilight Zone atmo with fun facts.”

Stiles recognized the room he was in but he still didn’t know what Derek was looking for. Stiles watched Derek as he surveyed the room with his flashlight; it had been decorated with pots and pans but from the dust it looked like this part of this ship had been closed to tourists for awhile. The flashlight stopped on the small door to the storeroom. Stiles gulped nervously. Of course Derek wants to go in there, Stiles thought.

“Hey, so I know I have this super manly tough persona, but I think I may actually barf from fear if you make me go in there.”

 Derek shook his head and smirked; “There is nothing dangerous in there.”

“How do you know? There must be something in this ship we wouldn’t be here otherwise. It’s ghost pirates isn’t it? Fuck.”

Derek sighed loudly, “There are no ghosts. I know there’s nothing dangerous because I was here yesterday.”

Derek tugged on Stiles’ arm, and because Stiles was stupid he followed him into the dark creepy room.

“Do you remember?” Derek sounded hopeful.

“Remember?”

“I thought maybe— ” Derek sighed loudly, before sitting down on the floor against the wall. “I’ve had dreams all my life, where I was on a ship. In others I was drowning. The details were always hazy in the morning. But when I sank to the bottom of the pool, everything came back. Lydia helped me figure out what was going on, but it wasn’t until I came here yesterday, that I knew for sure. This is where we were.”

“Derek.” Stiles sat next to him. He didn’t know what else to say. This eerie familiarity with this room had Stiles on edge, but it had clearly done something worse to Derek. 

Derek touched Stiles’ face before leaning in to kiss his lips. It was just a chaste kiss, but Stiles felt a tingle that he knew was wrong, Derek didn’t really mean it and Stiles would be evil to take advantage of his confusion. Derek pulled back, “Now?” Stiles shook his head but Derek couldn’t see him, his flashlight was on the floor. “I know it’s you. Our faces our different but our souls-- we're the still the same.”

Stiles groaned, this was so unfair because he was pretty sure Derek was going to kiss him again, and he was pretty sure that Derek was either possessed by ghost pirates or was just on a bad wolfsbane trip. Either way, it was so unfair, because he really wanted to kiss Derek. Like, more than anything, but Derek would tear his throat out when he was back at full mental capacity if Stiles actually reciprocated.

“I found you, just remember me,” Derek whispered before leaning back in to kiss Stiles. This time he wrapped his hand around the back of Stiles’ head licking into Stiles' mouth, trying to pry it open to kiss deeper. A gay pirate had possessed Derek and Stiles was going to hell for enjoying it, but he wouldn’t kiss back no matter how hard his reflexes were trying to reciprocate.

Stiles pulled away from Derek, grabbing the flashlight from the floor, hoping to find some ghost clues. Not that he knew what to look for, but he was hoping he’d know when he found it. He scanned the empty room with the flashlight, noticing old bloodstains on the floorboards near the far corner. 

“I told you I’d never let anyone hurt you again,” Derek said. Everything was off and confusing. Derek wasn’t making any sense, except that he was and that was even scarier than Derek being deliberately obtuse. As he walked closer the sense of familiarity amplified until he felt like he was being hit over the head with images.

“This is where they would throw his beaten bloody body after they were done with him isn’t it?” Stiles said.

Derek stood, moving behind Stiles, pulling his body flush to his, “It was us.”

Stiles’ remembered. The man who loved him in his dreams, the person who sank to the bottom of the sea beside him, he can remember his voice, how his skin felt, what his mouth tasted like but not the face, there was never a face. But he knew Derek was the man with the bleeding feet, who called Stiles, Sebastian. He looked again at the bloodied floorboards, and remembered the day Derek’s blood soaked the wood.

 

_“Let’s go far away,” The man, whispers, his hot breath tickling Sebastian’s ear._

_“Where?” Sebastian turns to him, eyes searching for answers._

_“Somewhere the Captain won’t find us.” He leans down capturing Sebastian's lips with his own. They kiss until their mouths are red and swollen. Their bodies aching with need for each other, but they knew they didn't have time._

_“He knows about us.”_

_“I know my love. They’ll be looking for us,” He says stroking Sebastian’s face as he speaks, each word painful. “The captain has ordered us to be thrown overboard, I can hear them coming for us.”_

_“Yes, let’s go far away,” Sebastian doesn't make a move to stand; he knows there was no way they’d make it out alive. “Where it’ll be just you and me, forever.”_

_“I’ll build you a house and we’ll live off the land.” The man smiles sadly, still stroking Sebastian's face. “I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again.”_

_“You never let anyone hurt me,” Sebastian sighs, curling in to the man's body. The man buries his head in Sebastian's shoulder, biting in a sob._

_“I’m yours forever, you know.”_

_“They’ll be here soon,” Sebastian says, looking over the man's shoulder._

_“That’s us then isn’t it?”_

_“Do you believe in heaven?”_

_“I believe in you. Heaven or hell, I’ll find you and I’ll come back to you.” The man kisses him again but this time they don’t dare let go. They hold each other close listening to the angry shouts of the crew get closer to the storeroom._

Derek’s phone ringing breaks Stiles out of his reverie. “Hour’s up,” he said reluctantly and put his arm around Stiles’ shoulders as he guided him out. 

 

***

 

For perhaps the first time in his life Stiles had nothing to say. Derek was sneaking looks at him the entire drive back to the motel. Stiles didn’t ask if that’s where they were

 going, he just drove, and after he parked he followed Derek dumbly to their room.

The first thing Stiles said after over a half hour of silence was, “This man today, said I wasn’t new. Told me God had given me another chance and not to screw it up. I thought he was crazy, but he knew. Fuck. Am I even me?”

Derek rolled his eyes like it was a stupid question, “Of course you’re you. You just were someone else once too.”

“I don’t want to be Sebastian, none of this makes any sense.”

Derek shrugged, “We died a tragic death, we just loved each other too much to let go.”

“So we died almost three hundred years ago, what were our souls doing in the mean time?”

Derek shrugged, “I don’t claim to understand it. But know it’s true, you do too.”

“So, you want me now because you were in love with me in a past life, even though you hate me in this life?” Stiles asked petulantly as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Derek stood over Stiles, “Do you want me?”

Stiles mouth fell open, “That’s not even a fair question. Like, you may as well ask if I want swimming pool full of gold coins I can swim in for when whimsy strikes. Of course I want, but I never thought I would ever… I was perfectly content jerking off thinking about your abs.”

“I’ve never hated you Stiles.”

Stiles gulped, his mind racing to catch up. “What do you want from me?”

Derek leaned towards him, lifting Stiles’ chin up with his finger, “Just you.”

Stiles let Derek kiss him, let his tongue slip between his lips and his hand slide behind Stiles’ head. The longer they kissed the more the lines blurred between the memories of his past life and his current one. Derek had pushed him down on the bed, hovering above him kissing his neck when Stiles pulled away.

“Derek, stop,” Stiles whispered quietly as possible, hoping Derek wouldn’t hear because he kinda didn’t want to stop, but of course Derek heard him. Derek pulled back clearly a little embarrassed of his enthusiastic assault of Stiles’ neck. “I like you. I mean. I liked you before I realized I’ve inadvertently been dreaming about you since I was four.”

Derek smiled; a real smile. It should have been unnerving, but it was nice, really nice. “I’ve been dreaming about you for as long as I can remember. I never saw your face in my dreams, but it was you. When I saw you that first day in the woods, you were so skittish, but I wanted you. I was so disgusted with myself for wanting a sixteen year old.”

“You were an ass to me because you wanted to fuck me?”

Derek frowned, “I haven’t been an ass. Just kept a cautious distance to be safe.”

Stiles started laughing at this but then couldn’t seem to stop once he’d started, “You are ridiculous.”

Derek’s face was suddenly serious as he stroked his hand down Stiles’ jaw, “I don’t want you because of who we were Stiles. But who we were, two people who loved each other so much we were brought together again in another life, that’s not nothing.”

Stiles smirked, “So what you’re saying is you’d want to fuck me regardless but the whole soul mate thing makes it worth the risk of fucking the Sheriff’s underage son?”

Derek raised his eyebrows, "Well not when you put it like that."

"Was it the sheriff reference or the underage one?"

Derek's head tilted to the side "Pick one."

"Stupid mouth," Stiles pouted.

"Beautiful mouth," Derek's eyes were fixed on Stiles' lips, but then he shook his head like he was trying to erase the image from his mind, "we should get back on the road."

Stiles' mouth dropped, his eyes popping open, "Seriously? You brought me to a motel so we could make out for ten minutes then leave? Seriously?"

"I didn't really think it through," Derek avoided Stiles' eyes, "I haven't been able to think straight for days."

Stiles giggled, "No shit."

Derek pulled a face at him, before extending his hand out to take Stiles', "I'll drive so you can sleep. I don't want your dad noticing you're gone."

Stiles cooed as he stood, fingers entwining with Derek's, "You're worried about my dad standing in the way of our epic love?"

Derek didn’t laugh, in fact he looked a little bashful as he tugged Stiles toward the door, as they got to the car Derek shook his head and whispered to himself, loud enough for Stiles to hear, "Sheriff's son. What is wrong with me?"

 

***

 

_"Sebastian," the older boy says throwing a stone into the water and watches as it skips across the lake, "you can't follow me. I don't fit here. But you do, you're beautiful, perfect. You'll marry Emily. I'll barely be a memory, the butchers son who taught you to swim."_

_"No," he cries, "you can't leave me. Don't you know that I don't care where I am as long as I'm with you?"_

_"You don't understand what you're saying," the boy says as he picks up another stone from the ground._

_Sebastian shakes his head and grips the boys arm, stopping him from throwing the stone, "I do, Miguel."_

_Miguel turns to him, pulling him in flush against his body, "Really?" he mocks as he runs his hand down Sebastian's face, "you understand all the things I want to do to you? Things that would guarantee us both a place in hell?"_

_Sebastian gulps, and nods his head before leaning in cautiously, his lips ghosting over Miguel's. Miguel pauses for a moment and Sebastian worries that he has made a fatal mistake, before Miguel's mouth opens against his, his tongue sliding in between Sebastian's lips, kissing him like Sebastian had only dreamed about. Miguel pulls away after a moment, taking Sebastian's hand, whispering, "Come, we’ll go to the woods. No one will see us there."_

Stiles woke up with a jump. He was still in the jeep, which was parked in his driveway, but Derek wasn't in the drivers seat. "Ass," he muttered to himself, reaching for the door handle, when the door opened suddenly, taking Stiles' arm with it, causing him to fall ungracefully out of the car onto the ground.

Derek huffed above him, but Stiles wasn't sure if it was a laugh or an annoyed wolf thing. Derek pulled Stiles to his feet, as if he was a baby giraffe who couldn't walk, and before Stiles even had a chance to wonder what the hell he was doing, Derek was pressed up against him, lips on his, kissing him briefly before pulling away and scanning the street for signs of Stiles' dad's patrol car.

He took Stiles' hand, "Come on, and let's get you to bed."

"Bed, huh?" Stiles waggled his eyebrows but Derek didn't look impressed.

"Yes. Where you will sleep. Alone. And wake up, not grounded."

Stiles grinned, "You still like me?"

Derek looked at him like he was crazy before pulling him toward Stiles' front door, "Stop fishing for compliments."

Stiles unlocked the door, but Derek didn't follow him inside, "Not going to tuck me in?"

Derek crowded against him in the doorframe, and lightly pushed his hips against Stiles, letting Stiles feel how hard he was, "I wouldn't be able to stop."

Stiles made an embarrassing sound at the back of his throat, "That's okay."

Derek just leaned forward a little and kissed Stiles on the corner of his mouth, "Not tonight baby."

Stiles stared as Derek walked away, mouth open, dick hard, brain fried. When Derek was halfway down the street Stiles said to himself, "Derek Hale just called me baby, what the actual fuck?" Derek turned to look at Stiles, and Stiles saw him laughing before turning back around, walking till he was out of sight.

 

***

 

_"Miguel is not a reprobate Emily. You're a reprobate for suggesting it!" Sebastian cries out to the dark haired girl lying across the picnic blanket._

_"He is as common as muck Sebastian, when will you learn that those born into nobility such as ourselves must keep to our own class? The son of the Spanish butcher is only fit to polish your shoes, not to climb trees with."_

_"You're wrong. He's wonderful. Miguel is my closest friend and nothing you, or anyone else says will change that," he says as he lays down, looking at the clouds form shapes above him he sighs, "we're going to sail the seas together when we're grown."_

_Emily laughs, "Father says when we're grown you will marry me. You have to Sebastian. It was decided before we were born."_

_Sebastian shrugs, "Then you will have to come with us to sea because I am never leaving his side, no matter how grown we are."_

Stiles woke late the next morning, not with tears but contentment. He didn't mind the dreams about Sebastian now that they had taken a decidedly less tragic and drowney turn. Stiles wondered if Derek knew his name had been Miguel in their past life, then he wondered if perhaps he must have known it this entire time as well.

His dad was on the phone when he walked downstairs awhile later, "Fake FBI. Yes, I understand. Yes, well, to be fair my deputies said the men looked-- yes I understand."

Stiles' furrowed his brow in confusion; his dad just shook his head as he hung up the phone. "Everything okay?" he asked his dad.

"I've got fake FBI agents busting out what we assumed was a drunk and disorderly, but now it appears the fake FBI agents are considered amongst America's most wanted. So you are looking at a man who is damn lucky to still have a job to go to today. I think I was about three seconds from being fired."

"Ouch," Stiles twisted his face for dramatic effect so his dad knew he cared.

Stiles' dad stood, grabbing his keys from the counter, "Don't expect me home tonight, or ever. This is ridiculous. I may never sleep again."

"Break a leg," Stiles grinned as he poured himself a glass of juice. His dad just rolled his eyes before heading out the front door.

Stiles heard his dad's car pull out, and less than thirty seconds later there was knocking on the kitchen window. Stiles couldn't even pretend to be surprised that Derek was standing there. He walked to the front door and let him in, "Come on creeper, want some breakfast?"

Derek nodded his head and followed Stiles into the kitchen silently, sitting at the kitchen table like it was something he always did on a Wednesday morning. "I like oatmeal, have you got oatmeal?"

Stiles frowned as he looked through the cupboards before finding a possibly moth eaten box of oatmeal, he sniffed inside it and it didn't smell rancid. "I'm pretty sure this has been in here since before my mom died."

Derek shrugged, "That's okay. Smells fine to me."

"One day I will get used to creepy werewolf super powers, today is not that day," Stiles poured himself a bowl of granola then followed the instructions on the back of the box to make microwave oatmeal. After mixing it with water and milk and putting the bowl into the microwave he frowned at Derek, "I can't believe you make oatmeal every morning."

"I don't. My mom used to make it for me," his lips pursed and he looked down at his hands, "I'm not even sure why I asked you for it. But thanks."

Stiles groaned as he poured the milk into his granola, "Can you go back to being growly Sourwolf? The softer side of Derek Hale is killing me with feels."

"Feels?"

"I like you so much I want to barf, better?"

Derek frowned, "No. But, I'm glad."

The microwave beeped and Stiles pulled out the steaming bowl of oatmeal for Derek, whose eyes, on spying the bowl, filled with a look of overwhelming glee. Derek didn't wait for the oatmeal to cool before he started eating, Stiles supposed it was a werewolf thing, or a Derek just really loving oatmeal thing, either way the bowl was empty before Stiles had even finished his granola.

"Quaker Oats should hire you as the face of oatmeal," Stiles said. Derek looked at the empty bowl then back up at Stiles with a look of embarrassment, "no, it's cute. I didn't know anyone liked oatmeal that much. You really like oatmeal."

"I like you more," he smiled.

"Yeah?" Stiles asked around a mouthful of granola, Derek just nodded as he slid further back into his chair, staring at Stiles' throat as he swallowed his food. 

 

***

 

Stiles didn't think it was quite fair that Derek had kicked his ass on every single game they'd played on the Xbox that morning. Derek was supposed to be a backwards mountain man who didn't understand technology, not a fucking video game hustler. He hadn't just done well, he'd wiped the floor with Stiles, and Stiles was the best at arcade style and first person shooter games, ask anyone. 

Stiles had been so focused on holding his ground against Derek that he was almost able to ignore the overwhelmingly intense sexual frustration that came from sitting too close to Derek. But then Derek jumped in the air to congratulate himself, giving Stiles an eyeful of exposed skin when his t-shirt rode up, as well giving him an awkward boner, which he knew Derek could totally smell with his creep-o werewolf nose.

It wasn't until Stiles' stomach grumbled that he realized they had literally been playing Xbox all day. It was five and they hadn't eaten since ten. Derek must have heard his stomach as well because he put down his controller, stood and put his hand out, "Come on, I'm taking you out to eat."

Stiles let himself be pulled up before he blinked, "What? Really?"

"Don't be precious or I'm not buying you dessert."

Stiles eyes widened, "Dessert? Oh my god, you're taking me out on a date?"

Derek gave him the patented Stiles-you-stoopid look, "Yeah."

Stiles ran towards the stairs before Derek could stop him, "Give me ten. Gotta change!"

 

***

 

Half an hour later Stiles was in his best shirt and cleanest pants in Derek's car on their way to dinner. It was the first time Stiles had actually been inside the Camaro, and it was pretty much the coolest thing ever. Stiles freaked for a moment when Derek pulled into the lot in front of Chevys, only because when Stiles had had the occasional first date fantasy Derek always took him to Chevys. Stiles genuinely worried for about three seconds that he was a witch that had created this elaborate scenario until he considered the fact that there were only three restaurants in Beacon Hills, Chevys, Chilis and TGIF so statistically it wasn't that crazy. Still though, right? 

"Chevys?" Stiles asked, just to be sure Derek wasn't under a spell.

Derek shrugged as he pulled his key from the ignition, "I heard you tell Lydia once it was your favorite."

Stiles groaned, as he got out of the car, "Not fair."

Derek looked concerned, putting his arm around Stiles' shoulders as they walked into the restaurant, "What's not fair?"

"You. You're just so, unf, and I'm so meh. Not looking forward to the other shoe dropping."

Derek just shook his head like Stiles was crazy, "I'm gonna pretend that made sense," then to the hostess he grinned his ridiculously charming smile and said, "two please, a booth would be great."

The hostess looked between Stiles and Derek, who still had his arm wrapped around Stiles and smirked, "I think I can find something cozy for you."

Stiles faked shock at her entirely true assumption but Derek just smiled wider, "Perfect."

 

***

 

Stiles watched Derek as he finished his enchiladas, "Why do you look so good when you're eating? Everyone else in the world, epic fail but I swear I'd probably pay money to watch you eat, it's sick."

Derek shook his head before taking his last bite, "Are you going to finish yours?"

Stiles looked down at the half finished huge plate, sighed and pushed it towards Derek, "All yours buddy."

Derek grinned and started working on Stiles' enchilada, "Buddy?"

"Lover? Oh no, wait, you won't have sex with me..."

Derek raised an eyebrow, "That is not true."

"Really? Cos I could have sworn--" 

"I don't want to get on the wrong side of your dad by keeping you out all night in a motel, doesn't mean I don't want you."

Stiles narrowed his eyes, "So if I were to make a move on you again tonight?"

Derek coughed, "I would have a very difficult time saying no."

"Hmm..." Stiles smiled to himself, watching Derek finish the food off of his plate, and trying not to get turned on every time Derek licked sauce off of his lips. "Do you remember how we met the first time around?" 

Derek looked a little surprised by the question and put his fork down, looking at Stiles, "A little. I think we grew up together, we must have, I don't have any memories where I wasn't in love with you."

"I remembered more last night, in one of the dreams I was probably only ten but I was telling this horrible girl how wonderful you were. Your name was Miguel."

Derek laughed, "Was wondering when you were going to make that connection."

"You knew?"

"In my dreams, the other guy always... you always called me Miguel."

"I also dreamt about our first kiss, it was before we went to sea. We were by a lake, and we ran into the woods."

Derek smirked, "Do you know what we did in the woods?" Stiles tilted his head to the side, before Derek continued; "Maybe I'll show you sometime."

Stiles kicked Derek under the table and poked out his tongue, "You are the most horrible tease."

Derek picked up his fork and took another bite of the food, "Who says I'm teasing?"

 

***

 

Derek walked Stiles to his door again like he had the night before, and Stiles completely expected Derek to tease the fuck out of him before kissing him goodnight and hopping back in the Camaro, but instead of leaving he followed Stiles inside. Stiles didn't want to ruin it like he had the night before by questioning Derek's motives so he just walked upstairs, chanting in his head, pleasefollowpleasefollowpleasefollow. 

The moment Stiles' bedroom door was closed Derek was shoving him up against it, attacking his neck and mouth with his lips, "Fuck Stiles," Derek whispered against Stiles ear as he bit his lobe.

"Is this what we did in the woods?" 

Derek latched his mouth on Stiles’ neck again as he unbuttoned Stiles' shirt, fingertips skirting over his nipples, "This okay?"

Stiles pulled Derek's face up to his and kissed him again, "Oh my god, so fucking okay..."

Derek's hand skirted along Stiles' torso down to the top of his pants, he raised an eyebrow and when Stiles' nodded eagerly he unbuttoned Stiles' fly, pulling his hard leaking cock free from it’s constraints. 

Derek moved his lips back on to Stiles' kissing him like that was what he was born to do, and perhaps he was. When he moved his lips back down Stiles’ neck, Stiles yelped nervously, “I’ve never done this...”

Derek smiled into his collarbone, biting the spot he had just kissed, “Good.”

Derek moved down his torso, kissing every inch of skin on his way down. Stiles ran his hands through Derek’s hair, “Fuck, you are such a hot possessive freak.”

Derek sank his teeth lightly into Stiles’ skin in response to being called a possessive freak but Stiles just moaned appreciatively. Derek made a few more bites on his way to Stiles’ cock before licking the pre-come off of the top of Stiles' cock, before sinking his mouth down on it. 

“Holy fuck,” Stiles shouted as Derek pulled his mouth tightly up Stiles’ dick before licking all the way back down along the hard shaft. “Fuck, Derek,” he called out again when Derek stopped teasing by tightening his lips around his cock. He sucked on it so hard and with so much pressure that Stiles came moments later, watching as Derek swallowed every drop, thinking ‘Oh my fucking god, Derek Hale is swallowing my come.’ 

Derek looked up at him and grinned, before standing, moving up his body to kiss Stiles. Stiles wasn't sure if it was obscene to be turned on by the taste of his come in Derek's mouth but he didn't care, because it was hot as fuck. Stiles laughed, causing Derek to freeze and pull back from him. "Umm?"

Stiles ran his hand down the back of Derek's neck down his shoulder, "No, it's not... I'm not laughing at you. I just. I can't believe that actually happened. Did that happen?"

Derek looked a little relieved, which was, well probably the most flattering thing Stiles had ever encountered. Derek tried to hide his smile, but it was too late, Stiles had caught it and knew Derek's secret, that he was totally capable of non-creepy smiles. "Is it really that hard for you to believe that I like you?"

Stiles grimaced and nodded his head towards his bare flat chest, "Well, look what I'm working with here, and I know my personality is generally more annoying than amusing..."

Derek raised his eyebrow, "You saying I've got bad taste? Because all I see is this beautiful man, he's funny as hell, and is constantly putting himself in danger to save his friends despite not having the supernatural advantages they have," Stiles frowned, but Derek just shook his head, "why can't you see how perfect you are?"

Stiles blushed, "Well when you put it that way," he laughed, but he felt uneasy about the compliments no matter how sincere Derek sounded, it was... just... no.

Derek groaned with frustration, and pulled Stiles' away from the door, pinning him to the bed behind them, moving his hands around Stiles' wrists. "No, don't do that. We're past that. I'm not going to act like I don't care about you again and you're not going to act like you're not worth being cared about."

"It's a lot to process."

"We've got time," Derek smiled, letting go of Stiles' arms and flopping beside him on the bed.

"Uh huh," Stiles muttered completely transfixed with Derek's insanely beautiful eyes. Derek's eyes didn't leave Stiles' as he leaned in, kissing Stiles. At first it was soft, gentle and teasing, but it quickly turned rough and needy, Derek's hand gripping behind Stiles' head pulling him in as close as possible. 

Derek stood, and pulled his t-shirt off before unbuckling his pants, pulling them all the way down. He wasn’t wearing underwear so his huge heavy dick sprang free and pointed at Stiles. “Wait, don’t we need, like condoms and lube and I don’t know what the third thing is but I’m fairly sure there is a third thing,” Stiles stuttered out.

Derek laughed, tilting his head to look at Stiles, "You want to have sex?"

Stiles' eyes popped open, embarrassed, "I uhh, yes? I mean, the woods right? Isn't that why," he waved his hand at Derek's crotch, "you with the taking off of the clothes and the big scary cock pointing at me?"

Derek's laughter grew as Stiles' face reddened, "Yeah... okay."

"Okay?"

Derek leaned over and pulled a packet of lube out of his discarded pants pocket, squirting it on his fingers, he shrugged, "I didn't think you'd want to."

"Seventeen year old boy faced with the super hot naked object of his affection. I want. Like, a lot." Stiles nodded enthusiastically as Derek leaned over him, kissing his neck before he moved his fingers between Stiles' legs, circling the rim of Stiles' ass with his lube coated fingers.

Derek grinned as he pressed one finger deep inside Stiles and Stiles’ dick started to harden again as Derek slowly added a second then later a third finger inside of him. Derek seemed in no rush to fuck him though, it was almost like he was getting off on the act of fingering him alone, which was hot, but sex needed to happen. Tonight. Now. This second.

Derek stroked his cock a couple of times before spitting in his hand and lining his dick up to Stiles’ ass, “Do you trust me Stiles?”

Stiles nodded, and while he hadn’t really considered whether he truly did trust Derek before that moment, there wasn’t a hint of doubt in his mind that it was the absolute truth. It was a strange realization knowing the growly guy who’d once slammed his head into his steering wheel without hesitation was now the person he trusted most in the world. Really fucking strange. 

Derek pushed his cock into Stiles, so slowly that Stiles didn’t know how it was physically possible for Derek to maintain such restraint. Stiles may not have ever had sex before but he had a dick, and as the old saying goes, the dick wants what the dick wants and what the dick wanted was usually friction not stasis. It felt like days had passed before Derek carefully pulled out a little before inching back inside of Stiles. The slightly uncomfortable burn of Derek’s stupidly large cock was beginning to give way to this intense yes-yes-good-awesome feeling, which Stiles knew, from previous solo explorations was the magical prostate. But Stiles’ fingers had nothing on Derek's dick.

Stiles dragged his nails along Derek’s back, encouraging him to move, but Derek was still inching in and out like he had forever. Maybe they did. “I won’t break,” Stiles said quietly.

Derek leaned down kissing Stiles, tongue meeting his, lips not pulling away as he finally began to thrust into him. Derek moved a little faster inside of him, but it still felt torturously slow and when Stiles dug his nails in Derek’s back trying to get him to fuck harder he just shook his head and kept kissing Stiles.  

Derek was clearly trying to drive Stiles out of his mind, he didn’t know how much time had passed but he could feel the burn on his face from Derek’s stubble and he’d been teetering on the edge of coming again for minutes, hours, maybe weeks. Derek’s body was still completely covering his as he kissed and fucked, the sweat from Derek’s chest mixing with Stiles’ own, almost plastering them together.

“Derek, please…” he whined, or perhaps cried, possibly screamed.

Derek pulled back from kissing Stiles, the look in his eye more serious than Stiles had ever seen, and he’d seen Derek kill. “You want me to fuck you harder Stiles?”

Stiles just nodded, watching as Derek lifted both of Stiles’ legs up, hooking his arms underneath Stiles’ knees and without a moment of respite, slamming his cock all the way to the hilt with probable werewolf force. He withdrew slightly, raising his eyebrow at Stiles in question, “No. Don’t stop,” Stiles groaned.

Derek began thrusting faster and harder into Stiles, pushing Stiles closer and closer to the edge until Stiles just couldn’t take it and grabbed his cock. Derek’s eyes moved from Stiles’ own and down to where Stiles was attempting to jerk himself off despite the fact that the force of Derek crashing into him kept knocking his hand off of his dick. Derek moaned Stiles’ name, before gripping the back of Stiles’ legs hard as he lost control of the precise rhythm he’d built up.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Stiles grunted out as he tightened his grip on his cock. Derek stalled for a second; making a sound that if Stiles’ didn’t know better he’d assume it was a death wail or a predatory howl. Derek twitched then Stiles felt Derek’s cock pulsing inside of him. Derek coming inside of him was about number one in the list of hottest things that could ever happen to Stiles, and realizing that was what was happening was enough to push Stiles over the edge. His come shot all over his stomach, still spurting as Derek let go of Stiles’ legs, riding out his own orgasm while he leaned down and kissed Stiles.

They lay together in a sweaty heap on top of the bed, come drying on their stomachs and the top of Stiles’ legs, neither of them giving an actual fuck about how dirty they were in that moment.

Stiles was the first to speak, “So, we weren’t just revisiting old times right? You and me, we’re a thing now?”

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles but Stiles could see the smile behind it, “Yes we’re a thing.”

“Because you really like Stiles not just Sebastian the hot pirate twink?”

Derek laughed, “Yes, because I like Stiles, even though he’s a total pain in the ass.”

Stiles grinned and this time pulled Derek in for a kiss, “I like Derek too.”

“I don’t want to just be a thing though,” Derek’s voice was serious when they finally pulled apart from their kiss, “I want more. We should have everything they didn’t, we didn’t.”

“You wanna build me a house and keep me safe?” Stiles teased.

Derek frowned, “Yes.” He paused for a moment, before his face flushed, “I mean, one day. You should probably graduate high school first.”

Stiles laughed, “I should be creeped out, but that is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

Derek leaned forward leaving a soft kiss of Stiles’ forehead, “We’re meant to be Stiles.”

Stiles gulped, wanting to make a joke about it. But instead he leaned into Derek’s shoulder, and looking up at him he said, “I know.”

 

***

 

_Sebastian stops kicking when his feet hit the sand, he knows it's all over, his hands are impossibly tied and the water too deep to make it to the surface. He's held his breath this long. Miguel always told him that if he was ever in trouble in the water that it was all over once he took a breath, so he holds it in despite the pointlessness. It's over and he knows it. He feels the movement of water against him, and when he opens his eyes he sees a vague figure that he knows is Miguel sinking down beside him, toes hitting the sand._

_Miguel is still struggling, keeps struggling as Sebastian fights to hold on to consciousness Sebastian thinks he sees Miguel's hands break free from the ropes, but instead of swimming to the surface Miguel pulls Sebastian in towards him, breathing his last breath into Sebastian's mouth. Sebastian takes the breath on instinct, and watches hopelessly as Miguel tries to untie Sebastian's hands, but the ropes are too tight. When Miguel stops struggling behind him Sebastian turns to see Miguel sinking further to the ocean floor behind him, eyes open but soul gone. Miguel has loosened the ropes around his wrists, but Sebastian doesn't try to swim free. He doesn't need to reach the surface, if Miguel isn't there to meet him. Sebastian takes one last bleary look at Miguel, now just a dark shadow on the bottom of the ocean floor, before he opening his mouth, breathing in a lungful of saltwater, "I'll come back to you," he thinks as the darkness takes over._


End file.
